Interlude From Maia
07 Apr 2018Namita Pear
Thus ends my trip out to Guardian space. What to touch on? The time was filled with a little casual exploration as we poked our heads about systems the Guardians had built in. We even visited a nebula, the Pencil one, though we couldn't quite sight-see as by then we were actually on schedule and were just delivering a group of escape pods. Barrett is a nice if straightforward fellow, and the Professor showed very honest enthusiasm about the sights we were seeing. Altogether, however, I'm glad that business is over with and I'm sitting back inside the Bubble.
It only took 45 jumps to get back to Kokojina. In a gunship.
I fucking hated it. Bad decision, maybe, but I needed to get used to the vessel. I needed to get used to not taking my environment remlock off and enjoying the sauna we got every time we stopped for fuel scooping. The handling, or lack thereof; she flies like a brick. The weapons: four medium hardpoints, a large one, and two small. And, of course, the software, which did nothing but malfunction while I was out there... thank god I'm getting it looked at by actual technicians and not the eggheads in Meene.
But the news lately has me worried, leagues behind everyone else in the galaxy it seems, about Thargoids. I was worried earlier, of course, hence the trip to the Ruins, but the most direct way for me to both assist the effort against them and feel secure is to have a weapon against them. In this case, weapon means ship with guns.
Gun ship.
The Situation Excellent is named after an old French saying. I am not sure when it was first uttered, or by whom. "My centre is giving way, my right is retreating. Situation excellent. I am attacking." At its heart it means to seize the initiative and never give up. Literally, it will apply to me as my speed and agility will be negligible, relying entirely on a hard outer layer and superior firepower. I have long since given up hope of outmaneuvering a Thargoid ship. Furthermore, should the Federal Navy actually draft me (as I think I'm technically a merchant marine, with this ship,) it will probably be long after many others have died during a concentrated 'goid push.
Right now, however, I sit in Obsidian Orbital with YIAH in dock. In order to actually construct weapons to damage Thargoid ships, you need the same things they're made out of. We've discovered via Canonn a veritable forest of Barnacles for us to harvest it from, and were it not for the announcement of the Privateer's Alliance and the construction plans for the ACS Overwatch, Wade and I would still be doing that.
Instead, we'll hollow out a research vessel we've commissioned and not yet fully constructed and haul the necessary cargo. Wade is less optimistic when I ask him about it:
He replies, "Absolutely not."
"What?" I was pretty surprised. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, I'm not. You can drop me off at the station and I'll sign off on whatever temp you hire for fighter duty, but I... refuse... to truck for the entire week with you."
"C'mon, Wade... we've been to Hutton Orbital together!"
"That was once. And just one destination."
"We've been on two expeditions. Three if you count what we just came back from!"
"To new locations. Seeing the stars, like Mom."
"Don't you trust me to keep things lively...? I'm a highly reliable pilot!"
"Okay. What about when we found the Jim Davis?"
"That had a happy ending."
"And when you took that thing out for a test drive, burned your hand on a re-heat burrito, and couldn't stop us from lithobraking at a hundred and fifty metres per second?"
"...which was why I had full power to shielding. Just in case!"
"Just in case."
"And you've seen worse gaffs! Hell, we saw that guy earlier."
"Namita... it's settled. You probably won't even get interdicted. The 'Liance is professional. Just hire some guy."
And settled it was. He didn't budge a single bit. We'll make for HIP 33368 after we finish our 'breakfast'. It's traditional Federation cuisine: greasy eggs, hashed tubers and toast, but it's not served from a proper local restaurant. A lot of the places in Obsidian follow the standard 'convenience diner' model - any type of food at any time. It's delicious as it can be, and other than the sausages in my omelette, I don't think a single thing is printed. Helluva standard, with Thargoids fighting just light-seconds away.
To the few independent pilots reading this, help the Privateer's Alliance or at least the Lambda Arae efforts. If you choose the latter, visit Ali Ring at Kokojina, or stop in for a bite in the Aeternitas garden system. They're only a jump away. Tell them CMDR Pear sent you!
I'm off to truck.
